Edges
by Loveandcoffeeandsimplicities
Summary: Life is full of edges. Holding onto them takes work. Bughead oneshot. I do not own the comics or show.


" _What do you say we just get out of here? Get on my bike and never look back?" Jughead asked._

 _He watched as Betty tilted her head towards the side, eyeing him curiously._

" _Oh yeah? Where would we go?" Betty challenged. Smirk quirking her lips upwards. Jughead grinned._

" _I'd go to the ends of the earth with you, Betty Cooper," he replied._

XXXX

It was a night filled with hope for both of the young adults. Fresh off their high school graduation with one final summer waiting for them with open arms, Jughead was looking forward to all the trips they could take together. He didn't want to have to worry about anyone but himself and his girl. Not Malachi, not Hiram, not anyone. He was simply content to just be in the present moment with Betty. As he plumped his pillow into a comfier position, he closed his eyes, sighing happily as he slipped into dreams where Betty and he were alone, not a worry encompassing them.

XXXX

Betty, on the other hand, was having a more difficult time trying to find sleep. Sleep had been elusive for her in the years following the Black Hood's reveal. She knew what her father had been capable of; knew that the life sentence in prison he was subjected to was well earned. Still, it didn't ease her anxiety over the pain and confliction she felt about being the daughter of a serial killer. She knew she had to repent not only for herself but for Hal as well. So she did. She went out of her way to make sure everyone in her town had what they needed. She made sure the Serpents were being treated fairly; that _Jughead_ was being treated fairly.

As she thought about her boyfriend, she thought about the cards life had dealt him. An alcoholic father and a mother who wanted nothing to do with him. At least he understood a bit about dysfunctional families, she thought wryly. She knew that he had been the most supportive upon finding out Hal was the Black Hood at the end of their Sophomore year. He had done everything to make her transition back into school and her every day life as smooth as possible.

Still.

 _Still._

Still, she found days where her darkness was so overpowering that she would hide away from the world, tucked away inside her room. It was these moments that Jughead would call out of school as well and show up at her window, beanie atop his head, smile adorning his face. She would feel herself being released from the clutches of isolation and despair; feel herself breathe a little bit easier. It was her and him against the world.

Fred Andrews didn't need any convincing to allow her back into his good books, something she was simultaneously grateful for and petrified of. How could the man who had been shot by Hal, her _father_ , forgive her and her family so easily? Fred said loving Betty as if she were his own was second nature; as easy as breathing air into his lungs. Fred was a good man simply because he chose to be. And for that, Betty was grateful. She was afraid that everyone had limited love, however, having seen it with her own family. And for that, she was petrified.

XXXX

As the summer months slid into one another, Betty and Jughead spent all their time together before going off to college in the fall. She had been accepted onto NYU's journalism program, he with Columbia. They were going to still be able to see each other every day. Veronica and Archie would be in the city as well – Archie per suing his music; Veronica running Lodge Enterprises the way it should be – with morals and ethics.

Jughead and Betty spent most of their nights in his trailer, locked away from the outside world. Since the traumatic year where she was stalked by her own father, she and Jughead had kept an avid eye on who had her number and who didn't. She didn't answer her phone after seven at night, choosing to leave it in another room entirely. She wasn't sure she would ever escape the tremors that flitted through her whenever she saw an unknown number flashing across her screen. Her fingers would curl inward and she would have to work extra hard to loosen them if she wanted her palms to remain scar free.

She hadn't heard much from her mother, who had opted to stay at the farm more often that not. It was better that way. After spending those two weeks at Sisters of Quiet Mercy, Betty and Alice Cooper hadn't quite been able to have the relationship they once had. Then, there was Jughead's reaction over the whole sordid affair. He held Alice Cooper accountable for many things and the depression that followed Betty's stint at Mercy was one of them. Things weren't the same after that.

As Betty and Jughead laid underneath his covers, fingers clasped loosely with each other's, Betty's free hand trailed over the permanent scar on her wrist. Closing her eyes, she remembered the night she gave it to herself.

XXXX

 _Two weeks left of their Junior year and Betty was feeling the impending pressure to be perfect. Everything was concaving in on her, lungs collapsing from the weight of her grief. Grief for her father being a monster, grief for not seeing the man behind the mask. Then, there was the grief for the broken relationship between her mother and herself. Gone where the days they could at least attempt to work things out. Jughead was so caught up in the game everyone was playing, trying to defeat the Gargoyle King, that she felt like a piece of her had been defeated through his absence in her life._

 _Betty felt the cool tile of her bathroom floor underneath her legs; felt the sharp point of the knife pressed against her wrist. She wasn't necessarily looking for a way out. No, it was more she was looking for a means to fill the void. She had become accustomed to pain her life, was no stranger to it. So, she made the first cut. She watched curiously as the blood bubbled up to the surface of the cut, dripping from it slowly but steadily. Fascinated by what she saw, she made the next, deeper cut._

 _Betty could feel the impending darkness coating her like a tidal wave. She hadn't called to say goodbyes to anybody, having not wanted to hear them try and change her mind. She, however, did send a quick text to Jughead, her love, explaining what she had done and that she was sorry. Then, she shut her eyes._

XXXX

"Where'd you go?" Jughead murmured, and Betty looked at him.

"Nowhere of importance," she murmured. She didn't want to tell him she was thinking about what was undoubtedly one of the worst days of his life.

XXXX

 _She hadn't remembered much after sending the text, just that she was waking up in a hospital bed the next morning. Jughead was next to her, beanie off in an uncharacteristic movement and hair unruly; coffee clutched between his limp fingers._

 _His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, and when they met each other's looks, she wasn't surprised to see him start crying unashamedly. He picked up her hand, careful, she noted, to not disturb the white tape around her wrist, and kissed her knuckles gently._

" _I'm not going to ask you why because I think I have a pretty good understanding of why you did what you did. What I am going to do is promise you we'll get you the help you need. We'll make it better, baby," he uttered softly. There was a catch in his throat, one Betty could've sworn had jumped to her own. She was tired. Simply exhausted. She didn't want to fight her demons anymore. But, her final option hadn't worked. She had officially hit rock bottom. Only way up was from there._

XXXX

Betty could feel Jughead's thumb replace her own thumb against her scar and she inhaled shakily. She, on her darkest days, still wished it had worked. Still wished she hadn't bothered to say goodbye to him, but she knew he'd never forgive her if she hadn't and that wasn't something she could bare, even in death.

"I'm so proud of how far you've come, baby," he said.

"Why?" Betty asked quietly.

"Because, you're tackling your demons head on every day. You're tackling them but not succumbing to them; by fighting. You're a fighter. A survivor," he said.

"I don't think I'll ever believe that," she admitted.

"Then, I'll just have to tell you every day for the rest of our lives," he vowed with conviction, bring her wrist up to his mouth and pressing a feather light kiss against her scar. She looked at him.

"I love you."

"And, I love you."

And, maybe it wouldn't fix everything inside of her but it was a good enough place to start. And for that, she was grateful.

Fin.


End file.
